


The stars are as infinite as they can be

by jarofactonbell



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drunk Dial, M/M, Minor Character Death, denial of the facts, do i know what im doing ofc not, obscure communication, really bad writing all throughout, reference to the perks of being a wallflower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 20:41:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11471307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarofactonbell/pseuds/jarofactonbell
Summary: "What were they like? The stars?"Kihyun remembers infinity."As infinite as they can be."





	The stars are as infinite as they can be

**Author's Note:**

> I tried writing in a different style to all my other works. This is the result. Honestly I have no expectation for it please give me feedback that's what I need. Inspired by Sleeping at last's songs. English isn't my first language please be gentle I love Monsta X I'm a sucker for Changki please give them love.

The numbers sit discarded on a piece of paper on the desk. A ray of fleeting September sun flickers on the table surface, then slinks away. It's been months, the numbers and the way his fingers remember the pattern they dance to on his keypad.

He doesn't look to the sunlight often, afraid of the warmth it gives to him who is undeserving. He cannot tell where the skin on him starts or ends, but he can tell that his whole body is a lie that he covers with expired skin and cigarette smoke.

It's another day and another night. He cannot see where the numbers of the days melt into bitter whiskey shots in fluorescent lighting, but he can see the single shirt folded neatly in the corner of his wardrobe, untouched since the day it's been left there. He crumbles on the bar top, throat sore from the repeated drinks, mouthing wordless regrets. If he picks up the phone now maybe he can hear her again,  _maybe maybe maybe..._

There is more alcohol than there is blood inside of him. He sways even on the seat, eyes blurred, colours blending and clouding the screen of his phone. His fingers do not need the sight, already dancing to the rhythm drummed deep in his blood. 

The line dials and hums. A ring picks up. Kihyun throws a hand over his eyes.

"Hello?"

It's not her. It's not the voice he wants. Kihyun fumbles and nearly drops his phone into the darkness of the bar, fingers shaking and clammy. He clasps the glowing screen to his chest, finger itching to end the call. 

"Did you call the wrong number?"

"No," he breathes, alcohol laced with his words. He shakes his head, wondering why he replied. He should hang up. "I have the right one."

"I don't think we've met before, or maybe I haven't saved your name...-"

'We haven't met. I don't know who you are, but I know this number. I've called it for so many goddamn years," he insists, voice hoarse, "I know it so well I could dial it with my eyes closed."

There is silence. He sighs, the familiar weight of regret sitting on his tongue.

"It was my mother's. She died from an accident three months ago. She was planning to visit me because I was sick. The road was icy and when she crossed the road, the car didn't stop on time. Lost control and crashed into her. She died on impact."

The bitterness in his throat could be from the whiskey shots or his tears. There are salty liquids falling to the floor.

"It's not your fault," the voice says back. Kihyun barks a laugh. It sounds self-deprecating.

"They all say that, but if I hadn't been sick for a long ass week she wouldn't be trekking through the snow to care for me."

"She's a mother. Did you expect her to sit at home while her son is sick in winters?"

"And in caring she died. What a wonderful son I must be."

He doesn't hear anything for a while. Good. About time he hangs up anyway.

"I only have this number for a month and I can assume that you haven't called it at all until tonight. It's 2 in the morning and it's cold. I have work tomorrow morning. I don't know you nor should I care about you. You sound drunk and suicidal and I should hang up."

The _wh_ _y don't you_ sits heavy on his tongue before he can spit them out.

"But I'm concerned and I'm going to talk to you. I can tell you that although your mother didn't expect to pass so soon, she wouldn't want you to torture yourself over her death. Things happen, and you can't stop them no matter how hard you try. That's just the way the world works. She wouldn't want you to stop living because she left. You have to live the life she would've lived."

"What do you know about her or me," he snarls into the receiver, "you're just wasting your time. It's been three months and I've heard all these things. What difference would a phone call and a stranger make?"

"She didn't trek all the way in that snow to care for you if all you're going to do in her absence is wasting the life she gave to you," comes the quiet reply.

Kihyun breathes. Can see the shadows dancing on his skin. Can hear the bass and the slurred speech of intoxicated club goers. Can feel the stabbing pain from the corners of his eyes. His lips are salty. He's been gripping onto his phone for too long.

"There has to be darkness for light to grow. Go outside. Drive. You'll see the stars among the dark. It's blinding."

Kihyun doesn't hang up straight away. His clearly visible hole on the left side of his chest sits like an open target for memories of his mother to assault. But it's mending, flesh connecting with fine silver stardust and moonlight. His mother was the sun, but she's also his night sky. He can feel the darkness leaving for the stars to shine.

"Then what do I do?"

"Just watch. You'll see."

Kihyun pays and leaves. Drives without a direction. Pulls over and watches.

The night sky is complete with the tapestry of stars hung low and high above the horizon. The darkness glows with the stars. Under the open arms of both darkness and light Kihyun feels for the first time in three months, infinite.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

His fingers tap a familiar rhythm onto the table, thighs fidgeting against the chair. Jooheon has meandered off, head long disappeared behind rows of CDs. He sighs, eyes turning to the barren branches of trees out the window. They twirl and spin. Kihyun stops tapping.

"Is anyone sitting here?" A voice asks. He hums, shaking his head, eyes on a falling leaf flying to meet the fresh bank of snow on the ground. Dinner should be something warm.

"It's a nice sight," the stranger muses and Kihyun nods, turning to face his companion. There is a mess of black hair, lidded eyes, intense brown orbs and a familiar memory of infinite sky,

"You should see it at night. The snowflakes glow." The mouth slowly curves into a smile. Kihyun can see understanding in them. Forces himself not to stutter.

"I bet. After all, there has to be darkness for light to grow."

"As always," Kihyun can see the veil of promise and hope. Breathes in courage, hoping the air is pungent with it. 

"I'm Kihyun."

"Changkyun," the boy smiles, eyes shut, head swaying. Kihyun follows the movement, blinking. His eyelashes almost flutter when dark brown eyes stare into him.

"What were they like? The stars?"

Kihyun remembers infinity.

"As infinite as they can be."

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like Kihyun would be such an angsty person so I based this entire fic off that. Please explain how does the phone numbers thing work I was vague about it I don't know how that happens or if it actually is a thing or not.


End file.
